


Love Is Blind

by Tornadic



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (Comics)
Genre: but it was so much fun and it made me so happy to write, forgive my lack of creativity, have some sappy cherik, i might actually continue this, so i wanted to post it, the title is a work in progress okay, this is the cheesiest thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 05:37:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10074605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tornadic/pseuds/Tornadic
Summary: For almost-model Erik Lehnsherr, it's seems as if everyone he talks to only wants to make conversation to get a good excuse for looking at him. However, when he runs into a blind stranger, he discovers that it's possible to fall in love with people's minds alone.Basically, I wanted to write a cheesy Cherik story and this is the outcome.





	

Beauty hurts. Apparently. 

For Erik Lehnsherr, however, it wasn’t so much the fact that he was attractive, but rather the eroding doubt in the back of his mind each time someone talked to him; was there really even a trace of interest in their mind when they asked him about the book he was reading, or did they simply like the look on his face while he explained? 

He was far from upset about his looks, but past relationships had proven that people seemed more attracted to his face than his… Well, mind.

That’s why he didn’t bother with looking behind him when someone tapped him on the shoulder at the runway rehearsal. Now, he wasn’t a model. Not that the job wouldn’t have suited him; his defined jawline and alluring eyes were perfectly suited for the cover of a magazine. He could easily obtain a high status within the fashion world, and an even higher one with the women who’d see him. But he didn’t want that. He was only there because he had to be; his mother knew he’d been lucky in terms of genetics and tried each and every day to get him into the modeling business. He, of course, had no desire to walk up and down runway after runway with no intent or purpose, other than for his mothers personal satisfaction. Erik had to admit that he loved his mum to death, but there were certain things (such as his entire career) he refused to agree with her on. However, she’d pushed and pushed until he finally broke and promised that he’d at least go watch one of the dreaded shows. 

They'd arrived at the large building, Erik's attitude already decided before they'd entered. The room in which the Catwalk took place was huge; a large -- and very expensive, Erik imagined -- chandelier hung above the stage, plated with golden hues and diamonds. The floor was covered in red carpet, soft and clean, and Erik figured the only people who came there were those who had nothing better to do with their time. Four floor-to-celling windows decorated the walls, accompanied oil-pantings of historical figures, most of which Erik didn't recognize. He kept internally repeating his reason for being there, and managed to get through the entire show, only leaving the room once to 'go to the bathroom.'

 

And there he was there, after the terrible display of loud music and hideous excuses for clothing, and some idiot wanted his attention. He lashed his body around, and came face to face with a man who was slightly shorter than him. The first thing he noticed about him was the fact that he was wearing sunglasses inside, a classic sign of a complete and utter dick. It took Erik a couple of second, however, to realize that he wasn’t wearing sunglasses; he was blind. The second thing he noticed was his clothing. It seemed as though it belonged on a man of eighty years, and yet the person in front of him was only in his early twenties. “Hi, there,” he smiled.

“Um,” Erik was taken back by the surprise. He hated how he’d expected it to be a photographer or a flirtatious woman. And yet, he felt a wave of relief wash through him. With this guy, he certainly didn’t need to pay constant attention to his posture or maintain the same superficial smile he’d grown so awfully used to. “Hello,” He finally responded. 

“I’m terribly sorry to disturb you, but you don’t think you could show me where the exit is, do you?” He asked. His tone was polite, and his entire being carried an air of light-heartedness and good intent. He had the kind of voice that made people ask questions to which they didn’t care about the answer, just to hear him talk. 

“Sure.” Erik felt the corners of his mouth curl into a smile, though he was perfectly aware that the guy couldn’t see it. “I’m Erik.” 

“Charles Xavier,” He said, stretching out his hand. Erik shook it — perhaps for a little too long. 

Erik stood there for a second, unsure of how to ‘show’ the blind guy the door. He figured perhaps he had to guide him. Yeah, that’d work. He carefully placed one hand on the man, Charles’s, upper back, and another on his shoulder. His body jerked a little, as if he hadn’t expected the sudden physical contact, making Erik wonder whether this was a usual occurrence for him.

 

The exit was essentially on the other side of the building, and Erik had never been good with awkward silences. For that reason, he decide to make conversation. “So, why are you here?" He cringed at the question, which he soon came to realize sounded terribly similar to the classic ‘you come here often?’ line. 

“My sister Raven helps with the clothing. It usually takes her a while to tidy the whole thing back up, so I thought I’d leave a little early today,” He explained. 

The soft fabric of Charles’s coat felt soothing beneath Erik’s fingers, and he found himself not wanting to let go. He didn’t admit it to anyone (hardly even to himself), but he took the longer route to the door. They could’ve gotten there in less than a minute had it not been for the curiosity and fascination he experienced towards the stranger. “Right,” He wasn’t quite sure how to respond, but he didn’t want to end the conversation. 

It seemed Charles felt the same way, as he was the next to speak. “How about you?” 

“I’m…” Erik didn’t want to admit his actual reason for being in the facility. Not that he was embarrassed, he just… “I’m good friends with one of the models.” 

They walked for a moment in silence. As they turned a corner and the exit came into view, Erik found himself desperate to keep the conversation going, as if the stranger would abandon his plans for the sake of talking to someone he just met. There was something about Charles, though. With every word he said, Erik grew more and more interested in him. Though he could hardly judge his character just yet, Charles seemed like the type who’d get lost in other people’s stories, and took genuine interest in hearing them. 

“Apologies if this question is a little odd, I’ve only lived here for a few weeks; do you know where I can get something to eat? I’d find it myself but I’m terribly useless on my own, I’m afraid.” While the words were slightly sad, his tone was cheery and careless. 

“There’s a restaurant just down the street and to the…” Erik hesitated. “Actually, I’ll just show you… I mean, take you. If that’s alright.” 

Charles exhaled, almost as if he was relived, before accepting Erik’s offer. The two of them then exited the building and begun walking down the street. It was a lovely day; the South Carolina air was fresh and clean, as it often was in the beginning of spring, and people chatted happily as they walked by. “What brings you to America? You hardly sound like you grew up here,” Erik enquired, desperate to learn more about the person next to him. 

“You are a perceptive one,” Charles joked, “I lived in England until just recently. Raven, uh, my sister, wished to pursue her career in fashion and I can hardly make it by myself, you know with the,” He gestured towards his eyes, “So I went with her. And I must say, Charleston is a charming little place, the people are very intriguing.” He hesitated, debating his next sentence. “Only problem is, I’m severely lacking people to chat with. Of course,” He went on, “I have Raven, but she’s hardly ever around anymore, you know with all her designing and work I won’t pretend to understand,” He laughed. 

For a moment, Erik thought he was going to continue, and he had to admit he was slightly disappointed when he didn’t. “I think I know her. Raven, I mean,” He told him, his memory taking him back to a conversation he had with a very attractive woman, who’d told him about her life in England, living near Oxford University. By then, the small cafe came into sight. “She’s nice.” 

Charles nodded in agreement, before almost tripping over a slightly elevated section of the sidewalk. Erik had to awkwardly catch him, accidentally placing one of his hands on Charles’s chest. “My apologies,” He laughed, “it’s quite hard to tell where to step when you can’t see the road in front of you.”

“No problem,” Erik discovered he was unable to stop smiling. 

They stopped in front of the cafe, where the smell of freshly baked bread and grilled chicken filled with their with an odor that, alone, was enough to tempt anyone to go inside. “Here we are.” 

***

Charles was, before anything else, impressed by the sheer knowledge of his new friend. It seemed that Erik had been everywhere from the States to East Asia, and knew an immense amount about each and every one of the places where he’d resided. He had a great deal of stories to tell, most of which were far more interesting than anything Charles could ever make up. They spent a long time at the cafe, telling stories and sharing memories of their lives before America. Erik learned that Charles has studied at Oxford, with particular interests in genetics and literature, and Charles discovered that Erik’s favorite country was Germany, specifically the Western part. They talked for hours, and by the time Charles’s phone rang and Raven’s name showed up on the screen, neither of them wanted to leave. 

“No, I’m alright,” Charles spoke into the phone, “I’m having lunch with someone,” Pause. “No it’s not a date,” He laughed, though he sounded unsure. “Alright… No, I’m sure Erik can help me back, don’t go out of your way… See you later.” He put the phone down, and there was a small moment of silence, before he awkwardly asked if Erik could help him home, to which the taller man responded with an enthusiastic yes. 

“Thank you so much,” Charles’s facial features relaxed in relief upon Erik’s agreement. 

***

“I have a service dog,” Charles explained, “I just didn’t want to bring him to the show. Don’t get me wrong, he’s very well behaved, I just thought the amount of people there would put him off.” The two men had just left the restaurant, and were walking down the street towards Charles’s flat. Raven had texted him the address, and he’d shown it to Erik, who happened to know someone who lived in the same complex. It was hard to tell whether Charles walked slowly because he was struggling without his dog, or because he didn’t want to go home. Either way, Erik decided that a very little detour wouldn’t hurt either of them. They were in the best part of Charleston, after all. And even though Charles couldn’t exactly take in the view, he probably had some way of recognizing the beauty of the town. His flat was right next to the harbor, and the smell of saltwater and fish soon filled the air around them.

“We’re almost here,” Charles stated, as if it was news to Erik, “The air feels more wet.”

Erik smiled at his comment, thinking back to an article he read about how when one sense is dulled all the others are heightened. “Is that how you recognize places? That’s incredible,” He almost couldn’t contain his questions. During their lunch they’d discussed a variety of things, but not once had the topic of Charles’s blindness come up. 

“Well, it’s rather complicated, I’m afraid. It would take a while to explain fully.” 

“I’ve got time,” Erik smiled, though he was unsure of whether or not he was pressuring the other man. “I mean, if you do.” 

“I have all day. And night for that sake.”

Erik lead Charles to a bench near the harbor; far enough away for the perfect amount of silence, but close enough to avoid complete isolation. They sat there for a few moments, before Erik repeated his question. 

“Well,” Charles took a deep breath, aware that the explanation was complex and hard to describe, and could only really be understood by someone who’d felt it. “I was born without sight, so whenever people say they’re opposed to a certain color or dislike the appearance of some actor, I have no idea whether I agree or disagree.” There was sadness in his voice, and Erik couldn’t help but pity him. “Raven is a huge help. Without her I’d be miserable. I get her to describe things to me, colors, as though they’re smells and sounds and other things I’m familiar with. Trouble is, I don’t have the power to develop my own opinion. I suppose I’m forced to see the world through her eyes,” His shoulders fell in defeat. Earlier, he’d seemed as if he didn’t even remember he was blind. But now, upon explaining, it was like his memory returned. “But then again, I’ve developed a certain sensitivity through my other sense. For example, I can tell you’re very sad. Right at this moment, the air between us feels despondent. Earlier today, there was passion in your words and the way you spoke created images in my mind in a way I’ve only experienced once or twice,” He paused, and furrowed his eyebrows as though he regretted what he’d said. A discouraged laugh escaped his lips, “I’m sorry, you must think I’m mad. It’s quite difficult to explain, I’m afraid.” 

Erik sat in wonder, looking at the person beside him. Never before had he met such an interesting human being. It seemed unfair that Charles, of all people, should be robbed of something as fundamental as sight. “You see a lot more than most people,” Erik admitted. “I mean, not literally, of course. But I’ve met people with perfectly good sight who are far more blind than you.” 

“That’s very thoughtful, Erik,” Charles smiled, though it was hardly due to happiness. He brought one hand to his forehead, and drove it slowly through his hair, leaning his head back. He looked as if he was in desperate need of a haircut. 

“Hey,” Erik looked across the horizon, his eyes fixated on the spot where the sky and the ocean touched. “If you’re afraid of only seeing the world from Raven’s perspective, I’d be happy to broaden your mind.”

This time, Charles’s smile was genuine. “Thank you,” His words were the most sincere Erik had ever heard, and it was almost a breath of fresh air from the artificiality of the show-bis he’d been forced into. 

“What would you like me to describe? I’m no poet, so don’t expect too much,” He clarified, afraid that Charles would anticipate a description with the likes of Jane Austen. 

“Your favorite color,” The younger man said, with a surprising certainty, “Tell me about your favorite color.” 

Erik allowed himself a couple of seconds to think. He jumped between colors, before eventually deciding on one. “Have you ever been in love, Charles?” He asked. The younger man shook his head. “Alright… Uh, ever been scared?” This time, he nodded. “Good. It’s the color that flashes before your eyes when you’re scared. I imagine it would smell like iron, maybe a bit sweeter. It would sound like a love song, one of those really cheesy ones no one wants to admit they like. It would probably feels something like velvet, but smoother. It tastes…” He paused, dreaming up the flavor of his chosen shade. “Spicy.” By now, he didn’t know what more to say. He couldn’t make any comparisons, because Charles wouldn’t know what he was talking about. It felt strange, describing a color without saying ‘y’know, the shade of a perfect apple.’

For a while, Charles looked in the direction of the ocean. “That was a beautiful description, Erik, thank you,” He eventually said. “I think I have a new favorite color.”

“No problem,” Erik smiled, looking with admiring at the man beside him. He found it incredible that someone could live like that; without the ability to see. He figured, in his case, it was nice. At least he knew Charles didn’t talk to him because of his looks. No, when he explained something, he listened. He listened, not for the sake of responding, but because he was interested. Erik had met very few people like that in his lifetime. 

“You’re smiling,” Charles grinned, as if he’d just discovered something extraordinary. 

“So are you,” Erik reminded him. It was almost sundown, and he couldn’t help but see millions of shades of the color he’d just described in the sky. It was embedded within the clouds, and reflected in the sea. 

If he could, Erik figured he’d have given Charles his sight, just so he could witness the sun changing colors, and everything else changing with it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Please comment if you have any feedback, or reach out to me on my Tumblr @marvel-llous


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